Remodeling the Wizarding World
by TimeTravel Fan
Summary: The muggles find out about them. About everything. And they weren't all nice and understanding about it. Who would try to save them if not Harry Potter?


**_Remodeling the Wizarding World_**

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><p><strong>Summary:<strong> The muggles find out about them. About everything. And they weren't all nice and understanding about it. Who would try to save them if not Harry Potter?

**Warnings:** Uhmm… I'm writing? Should I warn you about that? Ok, ok, I'll stop trying to be funny. This fanfiction will have: OoC, OC, NOT Slash (and that's going to be very painful for me, so be grateful), maybe death and torture of some kind. I must confess now, I'm not against Grindeldore, so I'm telling you now: if I can, I WILL help them make up.

Also I want you to know that this is not my first fanfiction, I've written before in Spanish so I have some experience with this and won't get mad if anyone tells me that my story is horrible or has several mistakes. I'll thank you if you could point them out.

**Disclaimer:** HP isn't mine; it would be so much shorter if it were. And Voldy would win.

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><p><em><strong>1. I'll fix it up.<strong>_

Harry smirked when he heard the door give in and blow open. _Just in time_, he thought wickedly, with no small sense of achievement.

He felt the floor trembling and saw the walls shake at the time his enhanced hearing picked up the sound of hundreds of steps, quiet as they were trying to be.

He grabbed the small ceremonial knife with the confidence of someone who has done this too many times to count and held it a few centimeters above his free hand, where many parallel scars that crossed his hand diagonally could be seen, proof that he had done this –and failed- several times before.

But this time was the time, he was sure of it, he would succeed.

The outline of bodies could easily be seen through the windows, and he could see the shadow of someone's boots in the small space in between the door and the floor.

Harry Potter, wizard on-the-run and former Boy-Who-Lived-to-Annoy-Everyone, took a deep breath and prepared himself for what was to come through the only entrance of the room.

Then, all hell broke loose.

The double door blow out of it hinges, the window glasses exploded and even part of the wall to his left was blown to pieces, debris flying all around along with smoke and dust. And suddenly he was surrounded by shadows, because that's all he could see of the men that stood firmly around him.

Fortunately –or unfortunately maybe-, he already knew all he needed to know about the people surrounding him. They were all men, the most scary looking, hefty, tallest men that could be out there. They were all armed with muggle guns; which was really fitting considering they were all muggles. And they were all trying –and constantly failing- to killing him.

"Ah, Mr. Potter" someone came into the room, walking as if he owned the place.

Harry's smirk widened, showing his smugness and confidence. "Why, hello. Fancy seeing you here, Coronel. I was starting to wonder if I would have to send you an invitation to come in" He said sounding almost reprimanding.

"Didn't know your dead wish was growing, Mr. Potter, I would have hurried otherwise" the man retorted, confident enough with his –apparent- victory to talk with him without hurry. "And just what are you planning on doing with that knife? Surely you already know that you will have no chance against my men with such a useless thing."

"Oh, don't worry, I won't harm your men" Harry smiled charmingly at him, moving his wrist ever so slightly and bringing the sharp knife closer to his other hand. "Not too much anyway" he almost laughed when he said that, most of all due to the Coronel's almost patronizing nod, the man didn't believe him, he didn't suspected anything. _Perfect_.

The Coronel would have been worried had he not put magic suppressant machines all around the property. As it was, he just had to stop himself from laughing in the wizard's face.

"Try not to harm yourself too badly while playing with it, Mr. Potter, that would just ruin my plans for this weekend" The Coronel smiled sharply at him, showing his perfect teeth in a most threating way.

"And here was me hoping you would appreciate having part of your job already done" He drawled out dryly.

"No, thank you, that's one of the most entertaining parts of my job." the Coronel's expression as he said this would have even scared some of his own men, had they been looking at him.

A small click was barely heard and Harry finally cut his hand with the knife, turning it then to let the blood fall to the floor. "Such a pity you won't have that pleasure, then" he said, grinning at last when he felt the magic coming back to the room, circling around him like a tornado.

The men surrounding him tried to fire but right then several small bombs cleverly disguised and placed on the walls exploded and sent everyone flying forward, towards the whirlwind.

Harry never got to see what happened to the men when they passed over the defensive ward he had placed around the actual ritual circle because right then the magic swirling around him latched into his magical core and started draining him, which was so painful he fell to the floor writhing and screaming.

He could feel everything around him shifting and changing as more and more magic was leeched out of his core, he didn't need to see it happening to know that the spell he and his friends had been working on for years was finally working as it should.

Harry felt the wind around him get hotter and hotter and hurt his bare arms and face as it dragged small pieces of debris from the explosions, however nothing was more noticeable or important that the dark magic dragging his own magic out of his core slowly and very painfully.

He knew that the dark magic of the ritual would stop before it was lethal for him, but that didn't help him to deal with the pain or to stop begging for it to stop _right now_.

By the time the magic stopped draining him he was too tired and too magically depleted to do anything else than faint right there.

_Several Hours Later…_

_I didn't know breathing could be so painful_, was the first thought in Harry's head several hours later. Or at least he believed several hours had passed, he couldn't be sure until he checked and he didn't think he would be moving any time soon to do that.

The only thing that more or less assured him that he had been successful was the grass he felt against his cheek and mouth, moving with every breath he took.

He knew he had to open his eyes and check if the spell had worked to know if he should start running for his life or if he had time to stay right where he was wasting valuable time, but he couldn't move an inch without hurting all over.

Hermione would kill him if she saw him right now, laying there without making sure it was safe to do so, mourning his luck and moaning about his pain when he should be confirming his success with the spell.

And Harry didn't even want to think what Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody would do. Probably scream 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE!' at him before kicking his ass and telling him to stop crying like a little girl and start moving.

"Ok, Moody, this is for you" he grunted and rolled over, taking a deep breath before opening his eyes only to swear loudly and close them as fast as he could. It just had to be a bloody sunny day.

He raised his left hand –the one without the big, bloody cut- and placed it above his head, trying to avoid being blinded by the sun again.

Once sure his hand was blocking the sun he blinked his eyes open and looked to his right through his wet and stinging eyes. And… there was the river, with the same rocks poking out of the water. He turned his head to the left and saw the same wood he had seen a couple of hours ago.

"At least I'm still in the same place" he mused out loud. He hummed a little, wondering idly how many years he would have to work everything out. "Tempus" he muttered under his breath.

'12:35. July 15, 1971'

"Merlin's Beard!" Harry gasped, unbelieving. "But… it was supposed to take me only five years back!" He sat upright ignoring all his pain and waved his wand again "Tempus!"

'12:36. July 15, 1971'

Harry stared at the date completely frozen until the letters disappeared half a minute later.

He didn't have five years to fix everything up. He had –Harry did a quick calculation- thirty-seven years!

He let himself fall onto the grass and stayed there, still and unblinking, thinking about all the things he had to do, and all the time he had to do it.

And then, realizing how many years he had to figure out a way to fix it, he relaxed and closed his eyes.

_It can wait_, he thought and smiled, it felt so good to be able to think that.

The next time he woke up his magical core was full again and any pain he had felt hours before was thankfully gone.

A quick 'tempus' confirmed him what his aching stomach had already told him; a day and several hours had passed.

Harry hadn't had time to prepare everything he needed for this travel, so didn't have a single knut with him which mean he would have to eat whatever he could find. It was in times like this that he realized just how much he loved Hermione and her foresight to learn useful spells for every possible situation and nagging them till they knew them by heart.

With a couple of muttered spells he rearranged rocks and small logs into a bonfire. A wordless _incendio_ set the logs on fire. Another spell and a big rock transformed into a seemly shaky grill that floated at a safe distance above the fire.

Harry hummed a song he had heard a long time ago as he moved closer to the river, peering at the water looking for… ah! There it is! "Accio fish" he waved his wand at the fish and soon enough the little animal was writhing out of the water heading his way. He quickly switched the summoning charm, accio, for the levitation one, wingardium leviosa, but not before casting a quick spell to kill it.

He left the now dead fish over the grill and prepared it with a spell Molly Weasley had taught him.

The fish was ready in no time and soon after he was done eating and had no more excuses to avoid thinking about his future plans.

Sighing didn't help and lying down and looking at the clouds didn't either.

Finally resigned he closed his eyes and tried to order his thoughts as he would with occlumency, which usually help him to open his mind to unusual ideas and to see the bigger picture.

First he had to think about the known facts: the muggles discovered the magical world, realized that they wouldn't help them with all their problems and decided to wipe out every magical creature –which included but was not limited to wizards and witches-.

The resistance was wiped out faster than they would have thought possible, the damn buggers were very adaptive and their never-ending experience with war had helped them to know when to change tactics and to notice which ones were more successful.

The French, for all their peaceful stance and refusal to fight Voldemort years before, were the most prepared and most vicious when it came to protect themselves and their secret locations. The evil buggers even refused to help the British and other wizarding nations or to share the secrets of their tactics and wards with them, fellow wizards.

Egypt had also became a safe place to run to since all the curse-breakers already working there had heavily warded several pyramids not known to muggles and send notice to all the mayor cities surrounding them about the new safe haven for magical creatures. Soon, the word spread to other continents and even sooner the pyramids were bursting with all kind of creatures.

They didn't have time to get too confortable there, though, the muggles discovered the safe havens and killed those not fast enough to run away.

In other words, if Harry let the wizarding world alone it would be destroyed in thirty seven years by muggles.

But who would believe him if he tried to advice the wizards of such a thing? No one, especially considering he came out of nowhere and was someone completely unknown.

_Maybe Dumbledore would listen to him._

Harry snorted at that thought. Sure, Dumbledore, the same man that kept trying –and constantly succeeded- to adapt old wizardry traditions to fit those of the muggles to make the muggleborns more comfortable with their world.

And if he even tried to tell this information to Voldemort the stupid man would believe with even more conviction that the muggles had to disappear off the face of the earth and if he could help them to achieve that, he would gladly. And that would, in turn, make the muggles realize faster than before that they were sharing the world with so many other beings.

But maybe he could convince Dumbledore to do some needed changes in the wizarding world that didn't have to be violent –not necessarily- towards the muggles. He knew the old wizard enough to be able to change his mind, or at least he hoped so; and even if Dumbledore wouldn't help him, someone else would have the knowledge of their future doom and as such if worse comes to worst he would be able to act sooner and better.

Telling Dumbledore was like having a backup plan and if there was one thing Ron had drilled into his head was to have backup plans for backup plans, and if those backup plans could have backup plans themselves then they should have them.

Perhaps Dumbledore would have some brilliant idea about what to do with Voldy, since they couldn't let him kill muggles as those little bastards would sooner or later notice that the people killing them weren't some weird terrorist with super futuristic weapons.

Yes, that idea had some merit. He would go to Hogwarts, talk to Dumbledore, decide with the old wizard if he should kill or incapacitate Voldemort sooner rather than later and pray to the gods that Voldemort didn't kill him before he could stop the muggles.

"That's a good plan." Harry sighed. "Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

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><p>Ok, that's it, the first chapter.<p>

What do you think about it? Does it has too many mistakes? Is it horrible? Is it boring?

Should I stop writing? =P

Please review.

See ya later!

**TimeTravel Fan**


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